


Trial

by dante0220



Series: Divides Crossed [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Deceit, F/M, Gen, Romantic Friendship, Romantic Tension, Treachery, Wrongful Imprisonment, storming Camelot's gates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dante0220/pseuds/dante0220
Summary: Agravaine uses Morgana's necklace to bring Merlin to trial.  Seemingly he has everything as he wants it.  That is...until the Nemeth delegation realizes what's going on.  Can Mithian get into Camelot and save Merlin in time?  Please r & r!





	1. Treason Discovered; Bonds Realized

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin (this version anyway) belongs to the BBC and Scyfy. Britomart is from Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queene. Ywain and Malodius are from Chretien de Troyes' Ywain Knight of the Lion. Blancheflor is from Chretien's Perceval.

[A Few Hours After the End of “Keepsakes Lost”—Six Miles from Camelot]  
[A/N: It seems that yet another of our magical creatures has telepathy. Read on and see!]

 

Feeling safe and relaxed under Nocturne’s starry darkness overhead, the delegation recharged its batteries for the next day. Most of the party slept on their bedding or in a tent. Those knights on guard duty played at lots around the campfire. A few sentries walked the periphery; their eyes peeled for potential threats. 

Pity that such things would come from within…..

 

****

 

A cloaked figure peered around the left side of Mithian’s tent. Green eyes peered from the dark hood scanning the surrounding area. After ascertaining that the coast was indeed clear, the prowler stole away from the camp and into the woods beyond. A gloved left hand rested on the hilt of a sword hanging from the belt. Boots crept through dew dampened grass trying not to make a sound.

Behind the prowler’s billowing cloak, the fire grew smaller and dimmer until they seemed as fireflies hovering in the darkness.

The figure rushed through the first stand of trees to find a white and brown splotched horse tethered to a tree. A right hand patted the pouch on that side of the belt. Gloved fingers touched the folded parchment therein. Hair on the back of the prowler’s neck rose. Anxiety ate at said-person’s stomach. 

The horse whinnied fearfully. His eyes darted this way and that. His ears perked.

The figure patted the horse’s flank to try and calm him. The last thing that should happen was to be bucked out of the saddle. The business at hand was too urgent for such accidents to occur. 

At that moment, a deep growl ripped through the stillness.

The horse trembled and reared. It tugged against the tethering reins around the tree.

“Now what?” a male voice groused under the hood. His hand slowly slid the sword from its scabbard. He turned toward the source with deliberate motions. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

At that moment, the slight clouds parted allowing Luna to stream her light into the area. The pale light illuminated the ground clutter not to mention the prowler’s surroundings.

A lion stalked into view tersely. His golden coat glittered in the light and faerie dust floating therein. His tan mane billowed ever so slightly in the breeze. His emerald eyes glowered menacingly at the skulking stalker. He moved to block the dirt trail.

The hooded man rolled his eyes. He waved his sword at his adversary. “Filthy beast! Perhaps Sir Ywain tolerates you but I won’t!” He swung the blade at the lion intent on killing him.

The lion sidestepped the glinting sword’s swipe. With a half-hearted motion, his right forepaw batted the intruder into a nearby tree and unconscious. He sniffed disdainfully. Then he lifted his head and roared loudly alerting the nearby camp to the threat at hand. He’d known of threats outside of the camp. He’d felt magic emanating from Camelot. Still he never imagined a traitor among this group surrounding Princess Mithian. He growled distastefully at the man’s prone form. Having just spent the night on guard duty, he was in no mood for such antics or mischief of any kind for that matter.

 _How predictable you are, Malodius,_ a voice assessed telepathically.

 _Malodius_ snarled. Now it was his turn to look this way and that. Despite being a creature of magic, he’d learned to distrust sorcerers and others like himself. He’d seen too many threats to Nemeth from those people. Consequently his loyalties lay with King Rodor and Princess Mithian. His friendship with Ywain came from their shared duty to their monarchs. 

A heartbeat or three later, _Memoria_ identified the speaker to him. He recalled the beast’s assault on Whitgate and much later on Camelot with fire and menacing tail. On the former occasion a quarter century earlier, he’d driven said beast back from Whitgate’s walls with a few burns. He’d felt another sorcerer doing the same nearby but didn’t know who that would be. The emerald eyes narrowed as he struggled with his own telepathic response. _YOU? You will not threaten the Princess!_

 _Threaten you. Great One? I think not,_ the voice assured him. _I come with word about the situation. Look skyward for my approach._

 _Malodius_ searched the skies overhead cautiously. His eyes found nothing of note in the starry expanses between the patchwork clouds. Still his ears detected a particular sound. They discerned the slapping of wings against the wind. He snarled still suspecting a trick of some sort.

Through the clouds, Kilgarrah descended toward the other. He alighted on the ground with as little impact as possible. Concern weighed down on his sensibilities. He had little time to waste on placating the magical lion. Still he and Merlin needed allies. He bowed reverently. _As I said, I come with word. We need to benefit our common friends, Malodius._

 _And what would THAT be? Malodius_ snapped. _The last we crossed paths, you scorched the ground around my city! What could we have in common?_

Kilgarrah bit back his sarcasm and venom. _Why the threat to our common allies of course. Your Princess and my brother._

 _Your brother? Malodius_ narrowed his eyes. _There are more of you? I was led to believe that you were the last dragon._

 _If Uther Pendragon had his way, I would have been. Another white dragon flies but I know not where,_ Kilgarrah exhaled allowing Consternation’s puffs of smoke to billow in short bursts from his snout. _My brother is a dragon lord. You remember Balinor?_

The lion stared at the Great Dragon. _Balinor’s been dead for decades. You’ll have to do better than that, Dragon._

 _I would’ve thought such a majestic servant such as yourself would put the needs of his kingdom ahead of personal malice, Malodius. In addition there is the matter of the life debt you still owe to Balinor. Is there not?_ Kilgarrah lectured the other creature.

 _I have a good mind for old accounts! Malodius_ protested. He recalled being separated from the Nemethians following the Battle of Old Oak thirty years earlier. For days and weeks, he’d wandered through the marshes north of the old Roman wall. Hunger had torn at his stomach. Exhaustion had sapped his strength. Just when all seemed lost, he stumbled across Balinor. He’d received the kindly man’s attention and healing skill. Then he’d received a ride toward Nemeth being returned to the woods outside of Whitgate with kindest regards. 

_So you do remember. That is good. You and I both suffered during the Great Purge. For our kind, it is a time of emergence. For Balinor’s son, it is his time as well,_ Kilgarrah surmised.

 _Balinor had a son? Then where is he? Why does he not command you? Certainly someone needs to do so, Malodius_ retorted snarkily.

 _Where is your companion? Look to your own affairs and I shall do the same, Kilgarrah_ snarked back without missing a beat. _The boy is in Camelot. In fact, he has already met your Princess. They have made quite the impression on each other._ He rolled his eyes.

 _Malodius_ growled at the other’s lack of respect. _Have respect for Princess Mithian. She carries herself commendably after her last ordeal here!_ Disdain provoked a sniff from his own snout. _They rejected her for some peasant._

 _And yet two did not adhere to protocol, Kilgarrah_ corrected him. _Certainly you heard about that as well. Your Princess implored Balinor’s son for friendship. He granted her as much._

 _This son met Princess Mithian? Malodius_ peered back toward the camp. He’d expected the other knights to have arrived on the scene by now. Still he benefited from their lack of speed in that regard. _I heard of the servant who defied his king to show her compassion. He saved her from the boar and returned our kingdom’s treasure without the request for a reward. And…._ Disbelief startled him. _The servant? HE IS THE ONE?_

 _Your word on the life debt and whatever binds you, Great One,_ Kilgarrah pressed.

 _It is given. The boy? He is truly Balinor’s heir? Malodius_ queried wanting more information.

_He is. However he was discovered. For his deed, Merlin was imprisoned. He is to be tried this morning. I cannot intervene. Perhaps you would guide your Princess and the knights to his cause? Great evil threatens the Once and Future King. Merlin must remain allied to him even if they aren’t at the same court, Kilgarrah_ pointed out. Then he heard noises from the woods. _Your companions are almost upon us. We shall speak again. Still I must ask for your aid where Merlin is concerned._

 _We owe him greatly, Dragon. Princess Mithian will not stand for such injustice especially for a friend. The fact that he is Balinor’s son makes it doubly so for me,_ Malodius agreed. _I do this for him and my Princess. I thank you. Still I cannot forget the past._

 _It seems we all have a great deal to accomplish in that regard. Remember you promised to keep his secret,_ Kilgarrah concluded before flying off and disappearing into the clouds above.

 _Malodius_ watched the Great Dragon as long as he could. His mind spun with all sorts of questions. Of course, he’d overheard the stories back at the Nemethian court. He’d pondered the knights’ accounts on the ride over. Furthermore, he’d sensed magical residue on Mithian after her return. He felt the same energies around the damaged tree, the fallen branch and in a source to the east….

…a source from within Camelot itself….

_The dragon holds certain truths back, does he? Balinor’s son has strong magic. Yes he would be a useful friend. Merlin would be like a brother to me should the Fates allow._

The hooded interloper groaned and stirred. He shook his arms and tried to reach for his fallen sword.

 _Malodius_ roared again. He stomped on the man’s cloak effectively pinning him to the spot. His eyes sparked menacingly in the moonlight.

“UNHAND ME, YOU BEAST!” the intruder snapped. 

At that moment, Ywain and Galahad rushed onto the scene. Each had their swords raised and ready to meet any foe in battle.

“Ho, _Malodius_! What is the threat? Where’s the battle?” Ywain looked about the area once more.

“There is no confusion, Ywain! Get this thing off of me!” the intruder complained. “I have business!”

Galahad pulled the man’s hood down and frowned. “And what business is that, Sir Samuel? There are orders not to leave camp until after first light. What is the nature of the emergency?”

“There’s news for Camelot. I must…” Samuel hedged. 

“And what news is that pray tell?” Ywain insisted. “What is it that you tell them that Princess Mithian cannot hear first? Your first loyalty is to her and King Rodor not to King Arthur or anyone at his court!”

“You are no one to question me!” Samuel protested. He tried to go for his sword again. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” Galahad suggested pointedly. He snatched the other’s sword off of the ground. “Ywain, search him. Let’s see what he had for King Arthur and the others. Perhaps he is a spy.”

“Stay still, Sir Samuel. If you try anything, Malodius might hurt you,” Ywain advised. He opened the pouch and discovered the folded parchment. “And what is this?” 

“Don’t! That’s….” Samuel started to protest. Anxiety spasmed through his limbs.

Ywain unfolded the missive and read it. His eyes went wide. “Bloody blazes!”

“Ywain, what is it?” Galahad stared at his fellow interrogator.

“Read it.” Ywain handed the parchment to his commander. Then he stepped back and to Malodius’ left. “Read it and see his worth!”

Galahad did so to find:

 

_“My lord,_

_Forgive my delivering this in person rather than our other means. Rodor and Mithian have decided to send her back to Camelot as an ambassador. Still unable to get necklace. Thanks to Merlin, your plans are in danger. Perhaps you might finally rid yourself of him?_

_Wish to speak with you further if this is suitable to your Grace. I show my loyalty. Remember your promise._

_Verily so._

_Samuel  
Knight of Nemeth”_

 

Galahad ground his teeth. He crutched the parchment in his grasp. Anger and Indignation flared in his heart. Reflex guided his hand to his sword’s handle. He squeezed it before willing his hand to let go. “Sir Samuel, you aren’t going anywhere but back to camp. You will answer for this!” He exhaled sharply and drew his sword. “Move.”

Ywain undid the anxious horse’s tether and led him away from the area.

“An infernal mess this is! As if the Princess’ rejection wasn’t enough?” Galahad turned to _Malodius_. “My thanks for catching him. Once more, you have done us a good turn.” He offered the lion a curt nod out of respect. Then he urged Samuel onward with the point of his sword. “Move, Sir Samuel. We’ll let Princess Mithian deal with you.”

 _Malodius_ narrowed his eyes. _Treachery indeed is afoot in that court. No wonder the Dragon came to me for help. The boy is in peril._ He set his purpose and followed the others back toward the camp.


	2. Mithian Confronts the Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithian discovers Samuel's treason. Decides to head for Camelot.

Chapter 2 [A Half Hour Later—Mithian’s Tent]

Mithian sipped on a goblet of water. She tried to ease her troubled heart and soul. Sleep had eluded her on that particular evening. Depression weighed on her mind. Her emotions remained torn between Dread’s and Elation’s respective pulls. She understood her purpose knowing that her role had shifted from a pawn in the marriage game to a dignified diplomat and representative of Nemeth’s interests. She would not be cast aside as rudely as on her last visit there.

Both due to her father’s terms in the scroll to her left and her own dignity for that matter.

_I wonder how they’ll take me coming back like this?_ She shook her head. _Should I really care? The court on the whole showed little compassion for our feelings. They should be grateful Father and the council accepted Gedref. A war between Camelot and Nemeth would benefit neither side._ She frowned knowing that Odin and _Meleagant of Cawdor would both relish an opportunity to take advantage of such a situation._ Her eyes narrowed. A rude snort escaped her lips. _As I have to deal with them, so they can deal with me. We all want peace._

_We want more!_ her heart protested.

_We offered him friendship. Let that be enough! The boy’s a peasant and a servant!_ her brain fired back.

_Semantics! Merlin’s proven himself well enough to us! Father offered him the way! One more task and we can have him!_ her heart countered. _Let Arthur show himself true or be a hypocrite. If he can have his blacksmith’s daughter, we can have our servant!_

She frowned. _Remember what Father said. I have to maintain appearances even if it kills me to do so. Merlin has one more task at least to gain noble status. Then I can approach him. Until then, we can be friends. I can make his way a little easier._

At that moment, Britomart stuck her head into the tent area. “Milady! There’s news!”

Mithian jumped to her feet. Her mind immediately jumped to several conclusions. She ground her teeth and collected her resolve. “What is it? Are we under attack?”

“Nay. Sirs Ywain and Galahad have something to show you,” Britomart informed her. “This way if you would?”

_What would they be showing me now? We’re supposed to leave within the hour!_ Mithian narrowed her eyes. Suspicion narrowed her mind making her suspect news from the nearby citadel. “Aye.” She followed her maid out of the tent and toward the campfire area. There she found the knights massed to the right of where the fire burned. “I suppose there’s a reason for this, my Good Knights? We depart shortly.”

The knights turned and bowed to the Princess. They parted like the Red Sea allowing her to see what they’d been looking at.

She beheld Ywain, Galahad and _Malodius_ watching over a bound Samuel. The latter sat on the ground and sullenly kept his silence. “As I asked your comrades, what are your reasons for this?”

After the trio bowed to her, Galahad explained, “Princess Mithian, our apologies. Sir Samuel was trying to sneak away from camp. He was about to ride to Camelot and deliver news of our arrival. Malodius stopped him from doing so.”

“Is that so?” Mithian looked expectantly at the prisoner. “And what would that business had been, Sir Samuel? I gave everyone specific orders to stay here until we departed. I authorized no such missive from you or anyone else here.”

Samuel shook his head. “I have my own orders!”

Outrage and Anger burned in Mithian’s chest. “The only orders you are under are King Rodor’s and mine! What was your business in Camelot? WHAT WAS IT?” She glared into his eyes much like an angry viper might its prey.

“We found this on him, my Princess,” Ywain noted. He handed her the parchment.

“Thank you, Sir Ywain.” Mithian read the letter. With each word, her eyes increasingly narrowed. The mention of the necklace galled her. The reference to the King and herself with disdain and mere dismissal burned at her. The implied threat to Merlin stung further still. “To whom was this addressed? Who is this ‘lord’?”

Samuel sat silently. His eyes bored deeply back into hers.

“Answer her, Dog!” Galahad commanded cuffing him across the face.

“I will say nothing. Let the Tomboy Princess think what she will! There are those who would rule better,” Samuel retorted allowing Disdain to flavor every syllable of said response.

“Oh? And who might that be? King Arthur? I think not,” Mithian dismissed. “He certainly was eager enough to avoid war on our last encounter. The Gedref is no cheap prize.”

“Nor it seems would that bastard servant’s life either. It is but a weed to be plucked and crushed underfoot,” Samuel sneered.

_Malodius_ snarled at the threat.

“What of Merlin?” Mithian waved the parchment in the accused man’s face. “What do you know?”

“Other than he defied King Arthur’s orders, nothing. Not that he’s worth anything. He’s just a no name bastard from….” Samuel started.

Mithian slapped his face hard breaking off his insolent reply. “Merlin has earned our regard. He is already worth a thousand of you, Sir Samuel.” She exhaled a clipped breath. “Did you try to steal my mother’s necklace when we were in Camelot?”

“I did enter your chamber. I could not find the bloody thing. Pity. It would’ve brought a nice price,” Samuel admitted.

“Indeed it would!” Mithian knew there was more than the captured traitor was saying. “Is there anything else you’d like to say, Sir Samuel? What of this reward? What were you promised? Were you supposed to kill my father? Is that it?”

Samuel smirked smugly at her. An indelicate and triumphant gleam sparkled from his eye at her almost regarding her like a piece of meat.

Mithian caught his meaning. “So you think to use me as a pawn for your own game. Do you now?” Her mouth puckered as if dealing with an extremely sour apple. “Well that will never happen. King Rodor may be advanced in years but he’s still full of vigor. He has many years of rule ahead of himself. I will have a proper partner to rule with! That is not for you, however, to dictate. Be fortunate we are not in Whitgate. When we return, my father will deal with you. As for now, you will be brought before Camelot’s court. I am sure King Arthur would like answers from you as well. Sir Galahad? Sir Ywain?”

The two knights bowed to her. “Yes, Milady?”

“Make sure Sir Samuel does not leave your sight! Meantime, Everyone! Pack your things! We leave shortly! I will have my answers!” Mithian insisted. _“Malodius?”_

The lion stepped forward. He bowed his head before her.

“Thank you, Great One. We owe you thanks for your service once more,” Mithian expressed pleasantly. She ruffled his mane and patted his head. “Be ready to lead our number into the city once more?”

_Malodius_ nodded. Affection urged him to rub back against her kind hand. _For Merlin and you, I would enter Hell itself._

“Be ready to do so within the hour then, my Friend,” Mithian bade. “Britomart, let us make haste as well. Camelot has much to answer for.” With that she turned on her heel and stormed off toward her tent. Rage and Indignation burned within her heart. Despite the traitor’s insistence, Panic had wormed its way into her chest as well. 

“My lady?” Britomart asked with concern.

“I want to be in Camelot right after sunrise. Let’s move,” Mithian reiterated. _Hang on, Merlin. I’m coming! Even if Arthur deserts you, I am your friend. Let them deny that!_


	3. Merlin Broods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin awaits the trial. He is filled in about events by Kilgarrah and Gaius.

Chapter 3 [Dungeon Beneath Camelot’s Citadel]

Merlin lay rather uncomfortably on the matted straw. He’d pushed most of the cell’s hay into one corner to help his back. Still he could feel the hard unrelenting stone floor underneath. His nose had clogged from the stench. A few rats lurked in the far corner; their eyes glinting crimson at him….

…or rather they had done so before a certain dagger silenced both rather neatly…

He stared at the ceiling. He wondered what Arthur had found for evidence. More than likely, he knew Agravaine had rigged something to that end. He frowned. _It would figure that Audrey would come forward like that! Just when I need to be out there!_ His eyes glanced toward the window overhead and to his right. _At least everyone else is safe. If I can keep them away from here, it’ll be better for everyone. Meantime I can find a way out of here and clear myself._ He looked at the bars beyond. _Maybe if I can enchant the lock, I can slip out of here. Then I can see what Agravaine has for evidence._

_No, Merlin. Do not be rash,_ Kilgarrah disagreed. 

_I’m running out of time, Kilgarrah! I can’t let Agravaine win!_ Merlin protested.

_You will if you’re caught. You are by believing you are alone. Have faith in us, Young Warlock. We can work our own magic,_ Kilgarrah pointed out.

_Kilgarrah, what have you done?_ Merlin panicked. _I can’t be exposed!_

_You’d already exposed yourself to one who knew what to look for. I encountered an old acquaintance you might say from a mortal generation ago. He was on his way here. Still he felt your magic. I told him you were Balinor’s son and my brother. With that, I have secured us yet another key ally,_ Kilgarrah clarified. 

_If he gets by the portcullis. The knights told me that Agravaine’s ordered them closed. Nobody comes in or out,_ Merlin countered.

_Unless perhaps they’re on their kingdom’s business? Merlin, this one has experience with such things. So does his leader. You should get some rest. Dawn is not far off,_ Kilgarrah advised.

_Nice to see that you care. Maybe you could conjure up someone to defend me too? Agravaine won’t allow Arthur to let me off easily. He wants me gone just like Gwen,_ Merlin supposed.

_I’ll see what I can do,_ the Great Dragon retorted sarcastically. _Don’t be rash…._

_Don’t be rash he says. Terrific!_ Merlin eased back onto the straw again. _I can sleep on the ground in Ealdor but can’t deal with hay and granite here. Wish I could just doze off!_ His mind drifted in several directions. _The knights aren’t the most trusting of Agravaine. Arthur won’t listen. At least Princess Mithian’s not here._ He exhaled deeply. _He can’t use her to get at her father or Arthur again._ He frowned. _She’s back in Nemeth dealing with being shamed here. At least she’s out of harm’s way._ He ground his teeth. _She’s not here to help you anyway! Think of a way out already!_ He yawned. Suddenly his eyes started to sag. Despite his desperation, he drifted off to sleep.

 

****

 

[Two Hours Later]

Merlin slept deeply without nary a dream or distraction for the remainder of the night. Despite the unpleasant conditions, he’d managed better in that regard than he might have in his own quarters….

…that is until a rather rude hand shook him out of it….

“What? I….” He blinked his eyes open. He grimaced while his eyes adjusted to the daylight streaming through the window. His mind slowly slogged its way back to being fully alert. _What happened? I couldn’t have fallen asleep like that. It was so sudden._ As his vision cleared, he found Gaius watching him. “Gaius?” He glanced around to still find himself in the cell.

“Yes, Merlin. I’m here. I just came from seeing Arthur,” the elderly physician informed him. He set a tray bearing a warm bowl of porridge and an apple beside the younger man. A grim expression covered his face.

“And? Surely he saw reason!” Merlin hoped. He picked up the wooden spoon beside the bowl. The hot sticky cereal coated his mouth and slid down his throat. It quieted Hunger’s protests in his stomach at least.

“I would have thought so as well, Merlin. Sadly it did not. Lord Agravaine insists he has proof. Arthur insists he has seen it. He said he was here last night,” Gaius continued. “Gawain’s arguing with him didn’t help.”

“He was here too.” Merlin shrugged. “I kept telling him to leave and get some sleep before this morning.” He motioned to the dead rat in the far corner. “He killed it. The guards made him take the dagger back and leave.” He frowned glumly. “It wasn’t long after that I just seemed to drift off.”

“You were sleeping just now. Strange. You usually toss and turn like a fish on dry land when a situation’s like this,” Gaius assessed. Then he cleared his throat and glanced back toward the bars. “You should eat quickly now. The knights will be here soon to take you to the throne chamber.” Still the Eyebrow arched. He glanced about the area. “If there was a sorcerer nearby, I’d say he or she spelled you.”

“It wasn’t painful or anything, Gaius. It’s was just a sense of peace. I felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. Morgana or another sorcerer who hated me wouldn’t do that,” Merlin supposed. He ate a few more spoons of porridge and bit into his apple. “Did my father have any friends who owed him?”

“What?” Gaius inquired. The question clearly startled him. “What’s this?”

“Kilgarrah spoke to someone last night who knew my father. Apparently he’s an old friend who owed Balinor for saving his life. He’s on his way,” Merlin mentioned. “And he knows about me.”

“He knows?” Gaius ground his teeth. He glanced again to make sure that the guard wasn’t there. Then he leaned close. “Merlin, he should know not to be telling anyone about you.”

“This guy apparently felt my magic.” Merlin bit into an apple. His teeth cut through the crisp fruit with an echoing crunch. “He’s coming with another group. Beyond that I don’t know.”

Gaius rubbed his chin. Anxiety ate at his thinking. From the few extended encounters he’d had with Merlin’s father, he’d never heard any mention of a life debt. Furthermore he didn’t know of any men with such a talent that he’d want around Merlin. “Did he offer a name for this person? Or perhaps the group?”

“You know Kilgarrah. Cryptic and full of riddles,” Merlin groused low. He finished the apple and set the core with the bowl. He washed the meal down with the last of the previous night’s water. 

Gaius saw Merlin’s point. “Whatever it is, we must focus on the matter in front of us now. After we deal with whatever Lord Agravaine has then we can worry about that. Am I clear?”

Merlin nodded. “Arthur seemed to have his mind made up last night. That’s what worries me.”

“Don’t think like that! We will fight this!” Gaius insisted. He grabbed onto the younger man’s shoulders and shook him. “We will present our side. Surely there’s an explanation.”

“I hope so,” Merlin conceded. Then he saw Percival and Leon watching them. “Sir Percival? Sir Leon?”

“Up and at ‘em, Merlin. It’s time. The court’s waiting for you,” Leon informed the prisoner.

“I thought Gawain might be here?” Merlin wondered. He slowly sat up and then made an effort to get to his feet. He yawned again. Again he felt the static in the air and the sleeping spell’s residue. Someone wanted me to sleep. But who? 

“Lord Agravaine wanted us to escort you. Gawain’s already with the others. They thought he’d help you to escape,” Percival noted.

“Where would I run to?” Merlin asked. “You all would eventually hunt me down.” Of course he knew that he could make himself vanish. Still he’d end up giving up everything and everyone that he loved and treasured. 

_We could run to Nemeth! The Princess would let us serve her,_ his heart put forward.

_Idiot! Would you start a war with your hoping and fantasies? That is what would happen!_ his brain clarified. 

Merlin sulked. He knew the knights would rather not bring him to the court. However he would not ask them to go against their vows or duty. He exchanged glances with Gaius. Then he allowed a pained breath to escape his lips. “I don’t blame either of you. You’re doing what Arthur told you to do.” He motioned toward the door.

Leon and Percival nodded with silent appreciation. With that they guided the servant toward his judgment.

Gaius sighed. _A mysterious interloper? A sleeping spell? And now a trial that shouldn’t be happening. Curiouser and curiouser indeed…._ With that he followed the others toward the chamber upstairs.

The show was about to start…..


	4. Merlin Led In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tension Develops Within the Throne Room....

Chapter 4   
[Antechamber Just Off of the Main Throne Chamber]

Even as Sol rose higher and higher in the morning sky, Arthur sat at a roughly hewn wooden table. Normally on such a morning, he’d be out with the knights on the practice field or on patrol. He’d be thinking of some surprise for Merlin to create for Gwen. He’d be thinking of the next measure to ease his subjects’ burden in their daily lives.

Alas those pleasant things weren’t in play on that morning. Gwen was out there somewhere; his own edict forbidding her return due to her adultery with Lancelot. Merlin would be tried that morning. His soon-to-be former servant would deal with being a thief in addition to a traitor and a defiler of the social order. 

_His love and his best friend…traitors both…. It could not be yet it was…._

He tapped the table. Hesitation ripped at his heart. Despite his uncle’s words, he knew Merlin to be a good person. Perhaps his servant was clumsy and could be an idiot at times. Still he’d come to understand that Merlin wouldn’t do something unless he felt it was best for the kingdom and the Crown. 

Agravaine wanted Merlin’s head on the walls as an example.

Arthur had snuffed that notion out. If Mithian had been harmed or worse yet, raped or killed, then he’d deal with Merlin in such ways. As it was, he wasn’t about to let Agravaine sway him toward such a verdict. Mercy moved him to exile for his brother of sorts. _If he can’t be here, he can make his own way. I am sorry, Merlin. Perhaps if you’d done what I asked and stayed in the castle…._

Agravaine knocked on the door and called into the chamber. “My lord? It is time.”

_So it is._ Never had Arthur felt the weight of the royal robes or the Crown in such a way before. As if bearing a leaden weight on his shoulders, he stood slowly and with great effort. He rolled the parchment up. He could see the elder man’s neutral countenance. “Uncle, I respect what you say. That is why we are doing this. It is no reason to celebrate. State business or no.”

“Of course it isn’t, Sire. Still the servants should know their place. You allowed Merlin too much latitude in his daily affairs. Perhaps this is something you might rethink? It is merely a suggestion,” Agravaine defended himself. Like the political cat he was, he shifted his stance and footing to suit the situation. He understood from the talks with Morgana that he could not allow Merlin to slither free from the snare. Either he’d see the boy’s neck in a noose or a bloody corpse on the road somewhere. He’d suggest as much to Sir Samuel on their next meeting.

“Merlin is loyal, Uncle,” Arthur countered firmly.

Agravaine coughed. “Loyal to his own purse it seems.” He patted the wooden box with the counterfeit necklace inside of it. “Perhaps we might send Merlin to Nemeth? King Rodor would take his head if you cannot bear to do so.”

Arthur shook his head. “Rodor’s not a murderer. Merlin would rot in a dungeon. I will not allow that. Merlin’s many things but I still can’t believe he’d do it! I know the evidence is there but...” He hung his head. He smacked the wall shaking the entire chamber. “It makes no sense!”

“Sometimes the heart lies, Sire. We must go with what we see. We must stick to the proof in front of us,” Agravaine insisted firmly. He wasn’t about to let Arthur out of the desired end. “Your subjects would expect no less of you as King, I fear.”

Arthur exhaled a clipped and pained breath. “No I suppose they wouldn’t.” Acceptance softened his frown. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Indeed,” Agravaine concurred. He held the door open. “After you, Sire.”

“Thank you, Uncle.” With that Arthur strode forth. Perhaps his feelings were divided. Still the Crown left him little choice. Duty demanded a clear path.

Agravaine nodded. Satisfaction coaxed a triumphant smirk behind Arthur’s back. He’d attain Morgana’s end if it killed him. He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that…..

 

****

 

[Outside of the Throne Room]

Merlin walked as solemnly as he could manage under the circumstances. He felt the other people’s eyes focused on the knights and him as they passed. The accusations, although unvoiced, slapped at his face nonetheless. Scorn and Spite hung heavily like Summer’s mugginess before a thunderstorm. The chains on his wrists and feet slowed his progress through the gauntlet.

“Just keep your eyes ahead, Merlin. The King is the judge not them,” Leon pointed out.

“I just wish I could prove I’m innocent. That is if Arthur will hear me,” Merlin lamented. For a heartbeat, the situation bowed his head. He stumbled.

“It seems an open and shut case, Merlin. I am sorry. Your own actions brought us to this point,” Percival told him. 

“What actions? I found Princess Mithian’s necklace and returned it to her. I made sure they had food for their journey. I made sure Gawain was with me when I did it. He wouldn’t have allowed any such mischief or….” Merlin stopped his words on that note at least.

The two knights coughed sarcastically. While they understood Merlin’s meaning, Gawain was Mischief’s chief servant it seemed at times. Perhaps that was why they were escorting Merlin while Gawain stewed on gate duty away from the proceedings. They knew Gawain would protest silently at least. His loyalty to them all and Merlin was without question.

Tragically so, it seemed…..

Leon stopped them before the heavy oaken doors. “The evidence says different, Merlin. As Percival said earlier, you did this. Now it is for Arthur to do what he feels is best for all.”

“Best for all? Leon, this is me! I would never…!” Merlin protested. “What is this evidence? I have a right to know!”

“You’ll see.” Leon cleared his throat and settled in for Arthur’s cue at that point.

Percival bowed his head. Despite having seen the necklace for himself, he was just as torn as Arthur. Yes there was proof but it was Merlin. After all of their time on the road, patrol, in battle and common service to their King, he still remained incredulous. He would not believe the loyal servant would do such things as Agravaine accused.

Merlin shook his head. _Whatever those friends are going to do, they’d better get it done. Agravaine has them all convinced._

Faith seemed to lag at that moment. Hope seemed to be obscured by Malice. Then again, it was darkest before the dawn.

And the cavalry was about to reach the gates…..


	5. Storming the Gates of Camelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain and Mithian take matters into their own hands.... Brace yourselves!

Chapter 5   
[Camelot’s Outer Gates]

Even as the proceedings were about to start in the citadel, affairs proceeded at a slightly more guarded pace than normal. The knights stopped the few peddlers and townspeople from leaving the city. They barred any visitors from entering the city per Agravaine’s decree as well.

Needless to say, said-subjects weren’t pleased by the measures “best meant for the kingdom”.

Neither was a certain Knight of the Round Table for that matter……

 

****

 

Gawain stewed at his post. His eyes watched the dirt road winding down from the forest toward the drawbridge underneath himself. He frowned. Impudence sparked in his eyes. He knew well that Agravaine had stuck him there to insure that he wouldn’t support Merlin against whatever would happen.

Instead of being at the court and speaking for his friend, the knight errant was stopping travelers and sending them back to whence they’d come. Rubbish and all of that….

_Merlin said he gave the necklace to Mith! So how did Agravaine get it? Bet he had someone steal it for him!_ Gawain sniffed; Disdain darkening his mood. He huffed indignantly. _Arthur’s listening too much to him. Merlin’s proven himself over and over! And yet Arthur treats him like manure? REALLY? What a bloody load of bollocks!_

“Still pouting? Get your arse in gear, Gawain!” a particularly prattish older knight snapped at him. 

Gawain glared at the Master of Arms. “I’m here, Phelps! What a joke! Real issue’s in the throne room not out here!”

“Still tied up over that stuck up peacock servant, are you?” Phelps snorted. “He’s gettin’ what he deserves! Lyin’ to us about his business!”

Gawain rolled his eyes. “You’ve got too much cabbage between your ears to know the difference. Why bother with the truth? You wouldn’t get it any way. That peacock at least was out fighting on the battlefield over ol’ Arthur’s flank! He never hid behind these walls with his chest stuck out and a cushy place to watch the road over.” He sniffed at the other man. “When’s the last time you fought in a battle, Phelps? You want to see a peacock? There’s a mirror in the castle.” 

Phelps narrowed his eyes. Anger guided his hand to his sword’s hilt. With one motion, he yanked the blade out for view. He allowed it to shimmer menacingly in Sol’s light. “Any time you want to test my blade, Gawain, I’ll be more than ready.”

Gawain stepped toward Phelps. “I’ll hold you to that. I don’t give a rat’s arse what privilege you think you have, Phelps. I’m not one of those peddlers you harass for your ale and bread.” His eyes blazed with Scorn’s fire. “And yes, Merlin is my friend.” He raised the back of his hand and pushed the other’s blade aside. “Don’t go insulting my friend. Keep doing it. I’ll let my own blade do the talking.”

Phelps stiffened. He saw several other knights approaching them to break up the simmering standoff. “Aye. There will be another time.”

“Whatever. You know where to find me,” Gawain insisted not giving an inch. Sarcasm deepened the frown on his face and the glare in his eyes. “Best get that dress of yours ready. I hear it really suits you….” 

A deep resounding roar bellowed through the air demanding their attention.

“By my troth! What could it be now? I…..” Disbelief bugged Phelps’ eyes wide open and dropped his jaw.

Gawain noted the Nemethian delegation’s approach. “What the Hell?”

Phelps scoffed. “Well now! It seems like the uppity green wants back in. The way that arrogant Princess carried on before, she must be ready to beg for the King’s forgiveness.”

“She had a right to be pissed!” Gawain interrupted. He saw _Malodius_ among the newcomers’ numbers. “What in blazes?”

“They bring a beast with them!” Phelps presumed. He turned to one of the other knights. “Sound the alarm! Nemeth wants to storm the gates!”

Gawain ground his teeth. “Whatever!” He turned on his heel. “I’ll go and see what they want. Mith’ ain’t like that. She wants peace as much as we do.” He headed for the stairs.

“Gawain, get back here! You’ll pay for this! I swear!” Phelps bellowed.

Gawain only offered a tacit wave of dismissal toward the head gatekeeper. His mind was clearly on making sure a war wouldn’t start over some pompous brain fart. He rushed down the stairs and toward the side door. “Get ready to lower it,” he told the stewards below.

“DON’T YOU LISTEN TO HIM! THAT’S TREASON! BY ORDER OF LORD AGRAVAINE, WE ARE TO KEEP IT CLOSED!” Phelps yelled.

Gawain shrugged. “I’m going. Stand aside, Gents, or I’ll move you. Your choice.”

The two stewards, while they disagreed with him, weren’t about to get skewered on the end of Gawain’s sword. They parted before him allowing him a clear path toward the door.

“Good that someone gets it,” Gawain complimented. “There’s going to be an ale for each of you for this. Thanks.” He opened a panel in the door and looked out toward the approaching party. “Hey, Guys! Didn’t expect you back so soon!”

Now to get the visitors’ reply. That would be telling…..

 

****

 

[Ten Minutes Earlier—Forest’s Edge Above Camelot]

Mithian set her jaw. With each horse’s length closer to Camelot, Consternation flared within her more and more. Her eyes took in the woods around the traveling party. She recalled the picnic on the plateau a few miles to their northeast. To their west, the hunt had started so well.

It wasn’t with the woods that she had issue. Rather the King in the citadel before them….

She brooded over unfolding events. She would have words with Arthur over Samuel’s treason. She’d set her father’s reply to his Gedref offer before Arthur. Then, if she didn’t see Merlin standing in his usual loyal position, she’d insure that he was all right for herself. _What madness infects King Arthur’s mind? What is he thinking?_ She glanced behind herself to see Samuel riding with his hands bound. She could see Sir Belvidere guiding the accused’s reins. Her eyes met Galahad’s and noted the purpose therein. She could see Britomart pondering some deep matter. She looked ahead to Ywain and _Malodius_ who led their progress.

It was at that point she spied two carts meandering up the road. She could see Annoyance and Dismay clearly etched across the drivers’ faces. _How odd. Arthur is well noted for not turning away travelers. What madness is this?_ She called, “Sir Ywain, see what ails those people. Hand them these for their trouble please. Will you?”

“Aye, my Lady,” Ywain agreed while accepting several shillings from her hand. “Stay here, _Malodius_!” He rode on ahead toward the two wagons.

Mithian raised her hand stopping the party’s progress. Curiosity had her intrigued as to the source of whatever was going on in Camelot. As Ywain rode back, she queried, “What did they say?”

“Princess, it seems there’s a royal decree barring anyone from entering or leaving the city. They were denied entrance into Camelot,” Ywain reported. “Something is not right here. There are no armies besieging the city or enemies of any kind to speak of.”

“I agree, Milady,” Galahad interjected. “King Arthur’s generosity is well renowned. This is out of character for him.” He turned to Samuel. “You know of what happens?”

Samuel scoffed, “You’re too late. Already the die is cast.”

“What?” Galahad pressed. “Speak!”

“The order is from Lord Agravaine not from King Arthur. He wanted the gates shut. More than likely, he presses on with the larger aim.” Samuel coughed. “Hopefully we’ll be greeted by the bastard swinging from a noose.”

An icy pain stabbed at Mithian’s chest over that cruel remark. “You’d best hope not, Sir Samuel. If anything happens to Merlin, you’d find yourself sharing his fate. King Rodor would have little issue with that. Trust me.” Rage sparked in her eyes. She noted Britomart’s somber mood and downcast eyes. “That goes for any of our friends.” 

“I’d expect no less from you, Princess,” Galahad complimented with a respectful nod of his head. 

“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Mithian insisted. “I’m not about to turn around without proper explanation from King Arthur himself.” She spurred her horse on. “Forward!”   
As one, the delegation rushed down the hill and toward Camelot at breakneck speed. The horses’ hooves flashed and glided across the dirt road barely touching it or so it seemed. _Malodius_ sped ahead of the group. His paws more than outrushed the horses behind him. Purpose lent further speed to his gait. Obligation pushed him forward and across the intervening hillside toward the drawn up drawbridge. He managed to stop mere feet from the moat’s edge. His eyes narrowed at the knights’ reactions to his presence. He roared announcing his Lady’s presence as well as those of his allies.

“What madness is this?” Ywain demanded. “They see our colors but do not lower the gate?”

“They fear the beast!” Samuel spat. 

“Have a care, Traitor. None insults _Malodius_ or they’ll feel my blade for it!” Ywain fired back. He could see Gawain arguing with another knight. He saw the former point down toward them. Then he disappeared. “What is he doing?”

“He would open the gates for us, Sir Ywain,” Britomart affirmed. Hope stirred within her own chest. 

“We will have to trust in that, Britomart,” Galahad noted.

“Sir Gawain proved his merit on our last encounter well enough,” Mithian insisted. “Allow him a moment.” Somehow she managed to remain under Patience’s tether and allow things to proceed as they would.

A moment later, a small wooden panel in the door opened. Gawain stuck his head out. “Hey, Guys! Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon!”

“And greetings to you, Sir Gawain! What did you do to merit gate duty on this day? Why is the gate shut to travelers? King Arthur is well known for his generosity in such ways,” Mithian replied evenly.

“Ol’ Agravaine’s shut the gates against everyone, Princess. He doesn’t want any interference! He’s rigged a trial against Merlin! The others are up there!” Gawain revealed. 

Mithian set her jaw. “I demand you lower the drawbridge at once!” She heard a scuffle coming from the other side of the door. Swords clanged against each other.

Gawain thrust his head back out the door. “The creeps are really getting on my nerves! Could use some help here!” He managed to lift the latch and kick the door open before disappearing again.

Mithian knew that crossing over that threshold could be construed as an act of war. Still she wouldn’t allow loyal allies to be sullied over such treachery to others. She nodded. “Sir Ywain and Galahad! Help Sir Gawain! Get that drawbridge open!” 

“Two knights against the front garrison? Really?” Samuel scoffed.

Britomart stared at the ajar door. Her heart beat furiously. Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth went dry. Fear drove chills up and down her spine. Not for herself, mind you. Rather she feared for Gawain’s safety against his so-called comrades. Instinct and Friendship pushed her hand onto her sword’s hilt. She leapt off of her horse and ran full bore toward the door. Her sword waved about fiercely in the air. 

“Britomart, come back!” Mithian ordered to no avail. “You don’t have your armor on!”

“She fancies herself a knight. Galahad, with me!” Ywain huffed. He rushed toward the gate at full speed in pursuit of the maid.

“Sir Belvidere, watch Sir Samuel,” Mithian instructed. She dismounted and grabbed her crossbow and a quiver of bolts. In that moment, she understood Britomart’s motivation for charging the gate. As Sir Gawain saved her, Merlin saved me. We can’t let them down. Father, forgive us for the war we may yet start! “ _Malodius_ , charge ahead!”

The lion roared menacingly and bore down on the now closed door. He threw himself against the thick oak several times. Each blow shook that part of the wall. Each impact cracked and spider-webbed the massive door. Metal hinges came loose. Bolts and screws rattled free. With one last push against it, he splintered the barrier before them. Then he rushed into the melee at hand.

Mithian shook her head. She hesitated for a heartbeat while collecting her thoughts. While the politician in her said to back off, the woman urged to charge on. She leveled her crossbow and crossed the threshold. …


	6. Battles Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain and Friends face big odds to get everyone inside of the walls....

Chapter 6 [Just Before Britomart’s Charge]

Gawain blinked at Mithian’s demand. _She demands? Seriously? Wow!_ His mind struggled to sift through the implications of her command. _What the bloody hell were in those grapes, Merlin?_ He placed his hands on the bolt. Still Hesitation stayed his hands. Yes he wanted to do the right thing. If he threw the bolt, he’d effectively bring in the cavalry to help Merlin.

Mithian, it seems, was ready to go to war to get into the city. If Agravaine thought he’d stop her from getting her two cents in especially on the necklace, he’d have another thought coming….

On the other hand, he’d be opening himself up to a potential treason charge from Phelps and the others. He’d be giving Agravaine an opportunity. He’d open himself to a date with the headsman. He’d also be encouraging a potential war between Nemeth and Camelot.

Still Merlin was getting screwed over. He needed friends. He needed help. That really had to come through. _Like now._

In the end, there was really no choice. Not for Gawain. He started to slide the bolt loose.

“Gawain, back away from that! We have our orders!” Phelps demanded. Beside him, five other knights already held their swords at the ready.

“It’s treason, Gawain! Stop!” a younger red haired knight at the back implored.

Gawain sighed. He could care less about Phelps and his bootlicking. Still the kid had a point. “Someday, Randy, you’ll get why I’m doin’ this. _Lord Agravating_ is the traitor. Time to set it straight!” He yanked the bolt completely loose.

“GET HIM!” Phelps demanded. His sword glinted brightly as it swung toward its mark.

Gawain crossed blades with relative ease. He frowned and rolled his eyes. “You all are really buying this load of bollocks? Lady out there can end the whole deal in the castle!”

“That’s for King Arthur not for Queen Want To Be out there!” Phelps retorted. “Maybe you want some time with that redhead with her? I saw you with her the other night.” He sneered. “Bet she’d be fun.”

Gawain narrowed his eyes. Yes he respected Britomart for how she stood by her mistress. Yes she was hot and smart even if she had an attitude. She respected him. For some reason, Indignation flared within him. “She’s not like that!” He shoved the older knight back into their comrades. 

“Seems we hit a nerve, Gents!” Phelps gibed. “Maybe we should ask her in? She has the goods and….”

Gawain’s fist broke his nose stopping the comment in its tracks. “Now that’s probably the best thing you’ve said all day, Phelps!” He thrust his head back out the door. “The creeps are really getting on my nerves! Could use some help here!” 

“Don’t let that bastard open the door!” Phelps commanded.

The knights scrambled past him. Even as Gawain pulled the bolt open, they grabbed hold of him and yanked him away from it inch by inch. They struggled to keep hold of him. 

Pity for them, the errant knight had lifted the latch and kicked the door open before they got him away from it.

They surrounded him. Their swords were drawn and pointed straight at him.

“Seems we have a sticky bit of business, eh? How about a round at the Rising Sun and we’ll call it all even?” Gawain supposed with both wry humor and irreverence.

“The only thing you’ll do is die, Traitor!” Phelps swung his blade again at Gawain.

Gawain raised his blade to parry the stroke. 

Before the swords could meet however, another sharp edge intercepted the attack.

Britomart raised her sword to a defensive position. “Can’t you ever not get in trouble?”

“And a bloody good hello to you too, Brit,” Gawain retorted. “Guys here were just talking about you. I was setting them straight. Talk about thanks for defending your honor.”

“Look, Boys! The maid thinks she can fight us! We’ll take her and make him watch!” Phelps sneered.

“Get behind me already!” Gawain barked.

“I didn’t come alone, Muttonhead!” She stepped forward. “Princess Mithian just wants to enter Camelot! She is on her father’s business! Lower the drawbridge. Allow us into the city. We have a matter to address with King Arthur!”

“Oh you’ll speak to the King, Missy. You’ll be on trial before him!” Phelps snapped. 

“The matter concerns the servant, Merlin, and his good name. A lie has been told. My lady seeks to set the word straight!” Her eyes flicked this way and that. “We’re not looking to invade! Just lower the bloody drawbridge!”

“There are traitors in our midst, Good Knights,” Ywain declared. “The girl speaks truthfully. Let Honor and Reason prevail today. We have no wish for bloodshed on this day.”

“We have no army with us,” Galahad insisted. “Princess Mithian is here as a diplomat. Your High Chancellor forced this standoff with his misguided decree. Please. Do not start something you cannot take back.”

“You’ve done that yourselves!” Phelps groused. He pointed at the door.

One of the other knights slammed the door shut and locked it.

“Now you four can go to the dungeon. How’s that suit you?” Phelps supposed. Sarcasm’s venom dripped from his lips rather heavily.

“It suits me not!” Galahad retorted. He kept his blade raised. “Milady, you really should pick your fights better!”

“I’m not about to simper as you’d all have me do!” she fired back. “Besides this is the only diplomacy these fools understand!” She narrowed her eyes. “After all, you did invite me in. Didn’t you? Be careful what you wish for!” She raised her sword again. “Come on! You want me? Come and take me!”

“Brit, really?” Gawain protested even he admired her passion and dedication. “We really need to talk.”

“Not now, Sir Gawain,” she countered. “And locking that door was a stupid move as well.”

“Really? And are you going to call your beast now?” Phelps dissed.

“Mock _Malodius_ at your peril,” Ywain rebutted firmly.

At that moment something hit the door hard. The combatants rocked on their feet.

“What the blimey devil was that?” Randolph demanded.

“I’d like to know too. Where’d Mith stash the battering ram?” Gawain queried; Surprise and Confusion clearly in full bloom across his face.

From outside the door, _Malodius_ roared in challenge.

“Perhaps you might let us open the door already? He will break it in,” Ywain pointed out.

“I’ll have that monster’s hide as a trophy! Let it try to do it! I….” Phelps discounted.

Another impact…then a third and a fourth shook that part of the ramparts. The door cracked and splintered.

“Bloody hell! Get back, Knights! GET BACK!” Phelps insisted. Dismay and Shock widened his eyes. Disbelief froze him in place.

The barrier exploded inward showering the combatants in a hail of splinters and wooden shards.

_Malodius_ stomped in tersely. His emerald eyes glared intently at the defenders. Then he turned to his friends. 

“We did warn you,” Galahad reminded them. 

“Yeah you sure did. Bloody freakin’ geez!” Gawain conceded. He glanced at the magical lion not knowing what to make of him. 

Mithian entered the area with her crossbow at the ready. Seeing everyone still tensed and ready to restart hostilities, she insisted, “Perhaps we can avoid further trouble, Good Knights? I’ve seen enough trouble here for my liking. This is not the way I wished to start as Nemeth’s diplomat.”

In response, the warning bell rang loudly overhead.

“Diplomat? You’re an invader! The King’ll eat you for lunch!” Phelps spat. “That bell will bring the rest of the knights! You’re finished!”

_Malodius_ snarled. He stepped between the allies and the knights. In addition he wasn’t about to stop until he reached the citadel or die trying. He set his snout firmly knowing he had one other card available to play as distasteful as it would be. 

“GUYS! The Princess wants to talk to ol’ Arthur! THAT’S IT! We can all go over there and do it. You can go with us. OKAY?” Gawain implored. “STOP ALREADY!”

“That is our intent,” Mithian agreed. She lowered her crossbow. “Let us pass. We do not mean anyone harm. Anything on this day we do is in response to you.”

“FINE!” Phelps relented. “We’ll let the King deal with you and your rabble! Let’s go! Randolph, watch the door.” He motioned for the other knights to follow.

“As soon as the other two members of our party join us.” Mithian strode back toward the door. She yelled toward Belvidere. “SIR BELVIDERE, BRING SIR SAMUEL AND JOIN US IF YOU WOULD?”

“AT ONCE, MY LADY!!” Belvidere dismounted. Although Mistrust and Caution pulled at him to keep him at a safe distance, Duty demanded that he follow her order. He composed himself with a calming breath. Then he walked over to Samuel.

“What? I’m not going in there!” the prisoner disagreed. Fear paled his face. Sweat beaded across his forehead. He stiffened knowing what Agravaine would do to him.

“Oh yes you are! Face your treason like a man rather than a coward! Either walk or be dragged!” Belvidere insisted tersely. Getting no response from the other knight, he slapped the horse’s flank. 

The horse reared and bucked hard dumping Samuel from his back.

“Now then…get up and walk like a knight!” Belvidere barked. He yanked the other to his feet. “MOVE!” He shoved Samuel forward before drawing his sword.

Samuel glared at his comrade. Then he dragged his feet across the grass and to the devastated door. Hesitation weighted his feet down yet again.

“You can step forward, Sir Samuel!” Mithian bade in a tone which would brook no further impudence. She’d about had enough of Phelps and the other gatekeepers. She wouldn’t deal with an insubordinate subject. “They should know one source of our common troubles.”

Before Phelps could respond, Leon, Percival, Elyan and a dozen more of Camelot’s knights charged onto the scene. Urgency propelled their mad dash from the citadel and across the careworn cobbles toward that spot. Instinct noted that they’d hold their blades at the ready for conflict. Still what they found astounded them to say the least. They beheld the devastated door. They stared at their wobbly-legged companions leaning against stone walls for support. They noted the emerald sur coats and colors of the Nemethian delegation. Still they didn’t know what to make of _Malodius_.

“What are you, Beast?” Leon queried. He held his sword at the ready.

_Malodius_ narrowed his eyes. His tail twitched this way and that. He tensed. His legs coiled like springs awaiting yet dreading another salvo from the defenders.

“Peace!” Mithian interceded. She turned from her argument with the disagreeable gatekeeper toward the newcomers. She stood beside the lion and rubbed his back. “ _Malodius_ is with us, Sir Leon. We have seen enough regrettable acts on this day. Put your swords away if you would.”

“Princess Mithian? Sir Galahad? What is the meaning of this?” Leon demanded. He surveyed the scene again.

“They showed up, Sir Leon, and demanded that we lower the drawbridge as pretty as they pleased,” Phelps scoffed. “Well I followed orders!”

“And since I know they’re friends, I opened the bloody door!” Gawain interrupted. “To bloody Hell with those orders! Leon, these prats started the whole deal! Britomart, Galahad and the other knight with them were just defending themselves. I don’t know what the deal is with the lion is. I asked for help. They gave it to me.”

“Much as Merlin and you have assisted us, Sir Gawain,” Galahad indicated.

“Besides they have stuff to help Merlin with that load of bollocks right bloody now!” Gawain insisted.

“Do they?” Percival’s face brightened considerably. “Princess Mithian, is this so?”

“Aye, Sir Percival,” Mithian confirmed. “ _Malodius_ is a loyal friend. You know Sir Galahad and Britomart from our last visit. The others are Sirs Belvidere, Samuel and Ywain who is standing with _Malodius_. We only requested to speak with King Arthur. It concerns treason against both of our realms.”

“You believe her? Sir Leon, this is poppycock! She….” Phelps doubted.

Disapproval flared from Leon’s eyes toward the head gatekeeper. “Perhaps but that is for King Arthur not you to determine. She is a Princess. The King will see her. If you had but asked for his counsel, perhaps we might have avoided this mess?” He motioned toward the blown apart door to emphasize his point.

“And then he called her ‘Queen Wannabe” and them all “the Uppity Green” too,” Gawain stewed further; his temper frothing like an overboiling cauldron within himself.

“Besides they’re making lewd references about me as well. I am no wanton or whore for them!” Britomart chimed in indignantly.

Mithian flushed. Her mouth twisted into an even deeper frown. Anger blossomed in its full crimson hue across her face. “I will see King Arthur now! We have several matters to discuss and no further time to waste.”

Leon motioned with his right hand for the other Camelot knights to sheath their swords. “If you indeed have evidence to support Merlin’s case then we should return to the throne room immediately. Follow me.” He turned to Phelps. “This isn’t finished, Phelps.”

The gatekeeper nodded like a child who’d been caught with the cookie jar. He glared at Gawain.

Instead of responding, Gawain ignored him. Rather he preferred to follow the other Knights of the Round Table, the Nemethian contingent and the firehaired maid with whom he was conversing at the moment. His and the others’ attention remained keyed on preserving a friend’s honor, standing and likely his life.

Priorities were important after all…..


	7. Merlin Waits, Gaius Counsels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Merlin waits for the inevitable, Gaius urges caution....

Chapter 7 [Throne Room—A Few Grains of the Hourglass Later]

Arthur tapped his fingers across the throne’s polished wooden armrest with Impatience’s Morse code. He’d wanted to go with Leon and the other knights to defend the wall. He really wanted to be any place at that point…in any other circumstances than what he was….

…about to try his servant and friend for treason on his uncle’s say so….

Despite the evidence, he didn’t want to believe it. The gibes aside, he wouldn’t believe that Merlin was a thief, a murderer and a traitor. Hesitation and Denial kept him from starting the proceedings using the knights’ absence as a pretext for his action.

In front of him, the summoned nobles and members of the royal court waited patiently as well. Some speculated on the nature of the bell’s tolling. Others contemplated the charges against Merlin. Still others wondered how long they’d be stuck waiting for something to happen there. Their eyes from time to time would drift toward the throne imploring Arthur to get on with it.

Agravaine stood stock still. He could afford a measure of patience at that point. His hand rested firmly on the small wooden box containing the false necklace. He well knew that a properly played hand could promote Morgana’s desired goals. He could split Camelot and Nemeth leaving both kingdoms vulnerable before the building Southron army under Helios’ command. Despite not getting the latest intel from Samuel, he had enough to play his hand effectively. “It shan’t be long, Sire. I’m sure Sir Leon and the other knights will handle things well enough.”

“I should be out there with them, Uncle,” Arthur countered firmly.

“You could be. Still one should be balanced in their affairs. Trust in your fine knights to deal with this affair,”Agravaine advised. 

“I do. I need their counsel in this matter as well. Their testimony toward Merlin’s character is essential,” Arthur countered.

“Sire, we have the proof. I mean…really?” Agravaine queried.

“Procedure must be followed,” Arthur put forward. “For now, we wait.”

 

****

 

[Antechamber]

Merlin paced about the antechamber. His nerves flared. The butterflies clanged in his stomach. He rubbed his forehead while trying in vain to assuage the throbbing there. His eyes kept wandering toward the window.

Sunbeams streamed into the chamber. Perhaps they strove to provide illumination. Maybe they were a source of warmth.

For Merlin, they served as a reminder of the chasm between what could be done and what had to be done for the Greater Good. He wished he could transform himself into a bird. Then he could soar away from the scene and be completely free. Still he knew that he’d be a fugitive. He could never stop running. He could never stop looking over his shoulder. He could never see his friends or loved ones again. Arthur’s destiny could go down the privy hole.

Duty was such a burden….

He sighed with a glare toward the door. He knew Agravaine had posted a guard to keep him from slipping out of there. He’d heard the warning bells tolling from the walls. It would figure that someone would use this as an excuse to attack. _Maybe Agravaine was right to close the city gates._ He rolled his eyes at that sentiment.

_You are half right, Young Warlock,_ Kilgarrah chimed in. _I told you that you are not alone._

_What have you done? You’re not…?_ Merlin stared out the window toward the north and northwest. Still he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

_Of course not. Still another like us *did*. He has entered the city and heads your way. Several other friends accompany him. They seek Arthur’s audience on a number of matters. Your welfare, it seems, concerns them. I told you that kindness is its own reward. Did I not? Be patient, Merlin. Allow these matters to progress as they will,_ Kilgarrah revealed.

Before Merlin could ask further questions, Gaius shuffled into the room and closed the door behind himself. Concern wore deep grooves into his face. His eyes drooped heavily. He ambled with a slower and much more deliberate rate than normal.

“Gaius, what’s going on out there? I heard the bells ringing by the wall. Is there news?” Merlin demanded.

Gaius shook his head. “Leon led the knights down there to support Gawain and the others. We all heard an explosion but there has been nothing since then. Arthur has delayed matters until we know more.”

Merlin frowned. He wanted to share Kilgarrah’s insights with his mentor. Still he didn’t know if anyone would be listening in. “I just wish it would be over with. This is killing me.”

“Knowing Agravaine, it just might be. You should choose your words more carefully, Merlin,” Gaius reminded him. He leaned close and whispered, “I know you want to use magic but you can’t. We can’t risk it.”

“I know.” Merlin bowed his head. “This is all a trumped up load of manure. I just want it to end.”

“It will as it’s supposed to and….” Gaius started.

The guard stuck his head into the room. “Gaius, the King’s about to start his trial again. Come.”

Gaius nodded. Whatever he felt toward Agravaine about the situation, he wasn’t about to take it out on the knight doing his duty. “Thank you.” He rubbed Merlin’s arm. “Be strong, Merlin. Have faith. We will get through this.”

Merlin nodded numbly. He drifted back into his thoughts again. _Do I really have a choice?_

Gaius ambled toward the door. Just before he stepped back over the threshold, he smiled in support. Then he left and allowed the door to close again.

Merlin wrung his hands. _Now they’re starting? What’s going on?_ He paced some more; his nerves literally searing through his gut.

The tension built on both sides of that door. It was about to get warmer still when the visitors arrived….


	8. Mithian's Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial goes forward. Merlin has to deal with things...until his friends show up and defend him.

Chapter 8   
[Hall Outside of Throne Chamber]

The knights and Nemeth’s delegation strode silently through the castle. Silence cloaked their passage. Each person’s mind occupied itself with deep thoughts, observations and concerns.

Both sides walked a tight rope. While each wanted peace, any act might’ve meant war. Treason fanned the flames. Implied insults and slights shook up the political landscape. While not at the Rubicon, they could all see it from where they stood.

Just before the entrance to Arthur’s chamber, Leon put his hand up stopping their progress. “I’ll be right back, Princess.” With that, he slipped into the chamber.

_Malodius_ snarled. He sniffed the air. His emerald eyes scanned the area around them looking for any sign of the magic in the vicinity. 

“What’s with the lion?” Gawain backed away warily from the others. He and the other knights’ gloved hands slid close to their swords’ hilts.

“Calm yourselves. He means you no harm,” Galahad insisted. 

“Well spoken, Sir Galahad. There’s magic nearby. He can feel it,” Ywain noted. He leaned close to his friend. “Where is it?”

_Malodius_ motioned with his head toward the chamber door.

“In there? I thought King Arthur was opposed to sorcery?” Britomart stared at the doors; Disbelief widening her eyes.

“He would never abide it,” Percival retorted firmly; his tone leaving Doubt little room to set root in that conversation.

“Ah it’s imagining things. I think we’d know if there was magic around here,” Elyan dismissed.

“He knows.” Ywain strode toward Elyan. “Perhaps it is you who choose not to see it. It is easier to choose not to face something under your nose if it suits your means rather than face it directly, my Friends. Just be aware.”

Her knight’s words tripped a switch in Mithian’s head. She pondered the thought for a few heartbeats in time. Could it be Merlin? Her mind flashed back to that near miss in the woods. She remembered him discovering the boar and her. Memoria preserved his facial features in her mind’s eye….

…although without sound, she could see his lips forming words….

_…and his eyes…his eyes…glowed canary yellow…._

…all of that before the bough came down on top of the predator and saved her….

She bit her lip. _Could Merlin really have magic?_ She tapped her fingers on the wall paneling beside herself. _It might also explain how he got that fruit up to us with only Sir Gawain noticing._ She glanced toward the chamber door and the knights guarding it. _What possesses Merlin to serve a man who’d kill him for being who he is?_

Not for the first heartbeat or the last at that point did she want to get through those doors. She wanted answers to her questions. First things first though. She needed to save Merlin’s life. Then she’d address the political relations between their kingdoms. After that, then she could ask those questions.

Priority kept her focused at that point…..

 

****

 

[Throne Chamber—Seven Minutes Before]

Agravaine tapped his fingers on the table beside himself. Impatience fumed away at him. He cleared his throat. He glanced at the gallery and could see that their mood matched his own. He knew Morgana wouldn’t tolerate failure on this matter. He cleared his throat. “Sire, we really should begin.”

Arthur sighed. He slumped back against the varnished wood against his back. Indecision needled him. Duty to Camelot and Nemeth dictated he get to the bottom of this matter. Loyalty nagged at him to take care of Merlin. Obligation pulled at him from both directions like a rope in an insane tug-of-war. Still he was the King. 

It was like what he went through with Gwen all over again….

_Gwen…._

He forced those thoughts back down. _I can look for her once this is resolved!_ He cleared his mind and collected his thoughts. Then he turned toward the guard by the antechamber’s door. “Sir Ranulf, bring Merlin in.”

Beside him, Agravaine smirked smugly. Triumph glittered in his eyes. He could almost hear Morgana’s praise coming to him later.

Gaius allowed no sign of his inner turmoil from his place in the gallery. He stood stock still. For Merlin’s sake, he would betray not a sign of weakness. Rather he’d serve Belief, Affirmation and Faith strongly in that moment instead.

The guard yanked Merlin from the small room. Without a hint of emotion, he escorted the latter to his place before their liege. “As per your command, Sire.” He shoved Merlin down to his knees before the throne.

The Warlock stared at the other man. His eyes narrowed. _What did I do to him? I thought he was my friend! Then again, I thought Arthur was my friend._ He bowed his head as Consternation’s weight pressed down on him. Again he wondered, _What did I do?_

_Have faith, Balinor’s Son. Help is here_ , an unfamiliar voice assured him.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. Surprise and Anxiety flared within him. His eyes scoured the room. _Sorry but who are you? Where are you? I don’t…._

“MERLIN! PAY ATTENTION, YOU IDIOT!” Arthur bellowed angrily at him. 

“Huh? Oh sorry, Sire. I thought….” Merlin started.

“You thought what? Perhaps you could just ignore the whole matter? I don’t know…maybe it’s like some chamber pot that can be dumped casually?” Arthur glowered at his servant. “I have news for you, Merlin. It won’t! We know you did it!”

Shock turned Merlin’s face bone white. He sprang to his feet. “I didn’t! I told you that I put it right in Princess Mithian’s hand!”

“I want to believe you, Merlin. Truly I do,” Arthur declared. His face drooped into a crestfallen frown. “Unfortunately the truth must win out.” He turned to Agravaine. “Uncle? Open it.”

“Yes, Sire.” Agravaine savored the moment. His heart skipped a beat at the all but secured triumph. Anticipation gleamed in his eyes. He strode a couple of steps forward. He bowed for the show at the waist. Then he opened the case.

The onlookers gasped. Their eyes turned to Merlin. Their heads shook. Faith escaped from their hearts like so many punctured balloons.

Gaius stared in horror at Merlin. He believed that the younger man couldn’t have stolen the necklace or had done what Agravaine had accused him of. Yet he saw the necklace for himself.

Merlin gazed upon Mithian’s necklace. Disbelief slacked his jaw and widened his eyes. He shook his head not grasping what or how this had come to pass. “N…No! I…I….”

“You had your chance, Merlin. Now…Now…I have to deal with it. I…” Arthur pronounced. Before he could go forward with the sentence, he saw Leon enter the room. “Leon? What is this?”

“I am sorry,” Leon apologized. He bowed at the waist. Then he took a deep breath. “There is an embassy to see you immediately.”

Agravaine turned on the First Knight like a maddened snake. “Tell them he’ll see them when we’re finished here!”

“It concerns this.” Leon frowned. “Princess Mithian leads the delegation from Nemeth. She waits outside with several of her companions. When Gawain told them about these proceedings, she insisted on being here.”

Agravaine squirmed. “Sire, perhaps we can allow the Princess some refreshment? It’s been a long ride for her and the others.” He sighed. _Why didn’t that fool knight tell me about this?_

“No.” Arthur waved off the suggestion. “This necklace is hers. We can allow her in. She can choose to forgive Merlin or not.” His eyes met Merlin’s for a heartbeat before turning toward the door with everyone else’s.

“Aye,” Leon agreed. He rushed toward the door and opened it. “Princess Mithian, King Arthur will see you.”

“Thank you, Sir Leon,” Mithian expressed. She motioned for the others to follow her into the chamber. As she passed through the gallery, she could feel the nobles’ shock and surprise. Indignation and Disdain emanated from some of the surrounding number. She heard a few exclamations as _Malodius_ strode into the chamber. She frowned. “ _Malodius_ accompanies us. He will not hurt you.”

“That remains to be seen,” Arthur doubted. He nodded to her. “Princess Mithian, this is a surprise. I hadn’t expected to see you back here so soon. It saves us from a long ride to your kingdom. We can return your mother’s necklace to you.”

“My…?” Mithian quirked an eyebrow at him. “Sire, that cannot be!” Her eyes peered deeply into his searching for his intent. She cleared her throat and curtseyed albeit gruffly to him. “Where is Merlin?”

Merlin gulped. Strength and Anxiety stabbed through him. The former invigorated him. The latter proving just the opposite. _She’s here? She came back? For me?_

_As I told you, we have come to help_ , the strange voice telepathically reiterated.

Merlin looked about the area again. He couldn’t see anyone or anything except for _Malodius. A lion here?_

_Aye, Balinor’s Son. Your father and I were friends. I owe him much. I would be your ally, Malodius_ declared. 

“He’s there,” Arthur pointed out. His eyebrow arched a bit. “You deny that the necklace was taken. You’re concerned for my servant who stole from you. You bring that creature into my throne room?”

“Have a care, King Arthur,” Mithian rebutted evenly. Her eyes met Merlin’s. She nodded ever so slightly to him. Then she returned her gaze to the resident monarch. “Do not insult my subjects. Nor should you so falsely accuse your own.” She removed her riding cloak to reveal her mother’s necklace hanging about her neck. “How can you have it, Sire, if _I am wearing it?_ ”

Arthur stared at her. Confusion clouded his eyes and disoriented his thinking. He saw the necklace on her. “But…but….” He turned to Agravaine. “You have it there too? How?”

_Malodius_ sniffed the air again. He sensed the sorcery therein even clearer than before. He looked about the chamber. He felt Gaius’ weak aura. Merlin’s aura jumped out at him like a beckon in the dark. And the other man…the other man had something that burned at him. The box in his hands almost glowed with dark sorcery. He roared loudly.

The gallery shrank away from him. Fear shoved them back against the far walls. Distrust and Prejudice propelled Camelot’s resident knights to draw their own weapons.

“You say _that thing_ doesn’t mean us harm?” Arthur supposed. “Princess, restrain it!”

“He senses magic, Great King,” Ywain explained. He and the other Nemethian knights drew their weapons. “Have a care. We do not wish any further fighting. We are here to see justice done.”

“And I seek to know who schemes against Nemeth here! Who would place the blame on Merlin?” Mithian demanded. “And who uses magic in such ways?”

“Magic is outlawed here. You know that,” Arthur reminded her. “Have a care, Princess Mithian. You’ve all but given us a pretext for war.”

“Perhaps.” Mithian kept a straight face. She brought out the parchment missive. “It seems that one of your court communicates with a traitor in my father’s court. Sir Galahad, if you would?”

Galahad pulled Samuel before Camelot’s assembled lords and ladies. “This is the traitor, Sir Samuel. _Malodius_ discovered him in the midst of his treason, my lord. He admitted to this.”

“This is madness!” Agravaine protested. “You can’t let them just come in here!”

“In most cases, I’d agree.” Arthur turned to his former _fiancée_. “Still Princess Mithian wouldn’t just make claims like this without proof. I think especially after our recent situation, we all take greater care.”

“Indeed, my lord,” Mithian agreed. “Read it if you would?” She handed over the parchment.

Arthur read over the document. He turned to Sir Samuel. “This is the first I’ve heard of this, Princess. I meant what I said outside when you left before. I didn’t want war then. I don’t want it now. I assure you. I never authorized this treason against your kingdom.” He turned to Agravaine. “Uncle? Do you know anything?”

“Sire, I would never do anything like that! I….” Agravaine lied.

_Malodius_ rushed forward. Before anyone could stop him, he’d reached Agravaine. He stared at the box intently.

Perhaps due to the lion’s presence or some other fortunate outcome, the necklace in the box shimmered. Like a heat mirage in mid-Summer, it melted away without a trace.

Another gasp went up around the hall in response.

“Sire, it’s magic! That knight has it! He conjured it!” Agravaine accused Samuel.

“Liar! You promised me riches, Rodor’s throne and _her_ if I did what you asked! I rode to meet you, Lord Agravaine!” Samuel challenged. 

“Madness indeed!” Agravaine turned and sought to rush away. Before he could do so however, Gawain barred his path. “Out of my way!”

“You wish, _Lard Agravating_ ,” Gawain strode toward the High Chancellor. His sword gleamed in Sol’s light. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He smirked almost daring Agravaine to make a move. “Nah. You’re staying put!”

“Thank you, Gawain,” Arthur expressed. “Leon, Percival, make sure my uncle is securely locked in his chamber. I will deal with him accordingly.” He cleared his throat. “Once again, Princess, it seems that the peace of our lands rests in your capable hands.”

“The first of many such times, I trust, my lord.” Mithian handed Arthur a sealed scroll. “King Rodor and Nemeth’s council have one demand for your proposed treaty to become a reality. I will serve as Nemeth’s ambassador here in Camelot. I believe we can both be of service to each other and our kingdoms.”

Arthur broke the seal and unrolled the scroll. His eyes read over the document. “It would make things interesting. Still you are a skilled diplomat. You’ve shown great regard for our lands’ welfare. I agree.”

“I will wish to meet your Queen, Sire. If we can help you in that regard, Nemeth is at your service,” Mithian offered. “We would help you to find your blacksmith’s daughter.” Somehow she restrained her own hurt feelings and kept her countenance even. Her mind kept drifting toward Merlin who stood not even ten feet away from her side. Her heart focused on the dark haired Warlock.

Arthur stared at her in shock. He could see the Princess fighting to keep a poker face. He admired how Duty braced her and Service motivated her for the Greater Good. “That…is most generous! I cannot ask such a thing.”

“It’s what allies do. I met a man recently who reminded me that Duty is paramount over all other things. While we cannot yet be together, Fate will make it so one day. He is proving himself as we speak, Sire. What happened between us was unfortunate. I trust though we can move on from it? I admit that it hurts to be here. Still when I think of that special man, I know he’d want that woman to be with you. For the bond between our lands and him, I can help you. I forgive you, Sire.” Mithian curtseyed once more.

Arthur nodded. A warm smile spread across his face. “Thank you, Princess. You have no idea how much that means to me. Once again, I apologize for the pain I’ve caused you as well. If there is anything I can do to help with your situation with this person whoever he is, please let me know. Camelot is at your service as well.”

“Thank you, my lord. I deeply appreciate that.” Mithian’s eyes sparkled. Elation and Joy lifted her heart to untold heights. “I know one day he will as well.” _And I will hold you to that, Arthur! One day I will be with Merlin! You will not deny me. We will all be happy and live in peace!_ “Now about the current situation, I believe there’s someone waiting to be freed?” She motioned toward Merlin.

Arthur cleared his throat. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks a dark scarlet. “Ah yes. That. Merlin, you’re free to go.” He frowned. “And there’s a great deal to be done for the last day and a half! Go on!” He motioned toward the door.

“Yes, Sire. I’ll get right on it,” Merlin concurred. He smirked at his liege before rushing off.

“Oh and Merlin?” Arthur added. “Make sure Princess Mithian’s chambers are taken care of as well. You do remember the way there, I trust?”

Merlin grimaced. “I do. I’ll get right on it.” He bowed before Arthur. “Thank you, Princess, for clearing me.”

“Thank you for saving my life, Merlin,” Mithian replied evenly. She smiled at him. “Now perhaps you can find some more of that wonderful fruit and cheese you brought before?”

Merlin bowed ever so slightly. “I think I can manage that, Princess.” Giddiness and Warmth soothed his frayed nerves. 

“Wonderful fruit and cheese?” Arthur supposed.

“Yeah. I got some apples and grapes. Then a few pieces of that cheese from the stores rounded it off,” Merlin clarified. 

“I’m sure it’s all very interesting. Go about it,” Arthur dismissed already moving past the accusations. Even if he wouldn’t admit it outwardly, he was glad to have Merlin back in his service and the charges proven false. “Meantime, Leon, can you and the knights secure my uncle? Princess, perhaps some of your knights can take the traitor downstairs? My dungeon will hold him well enough until your return to Whitgate.”

“Sirs Belvidere and Galahad can do that, Sire,” Mithian replied. She motioned to the knights in question. “Please see Sir Samuel downstairs to the dungeon? _Malodius_ and Sir Ywain will remain with me. Britomart, perhaps we can bring everything to our quarters? As King Arthur indicated, it has been a long ride.”

“At once, Milady,” Britomart agreed. She bowed to King Arthur. With a roll of her eyes at Gawain, she hustled off toward the waiting horses outside.

Everyone looked toward Gawain wondering why she’d shot him that glance. 

“What? I don’t know! She’s just… _her_. All right?” Gawain threw his hands up not getting the gist. “I’ll see if Percy and Leon need a hand.” With that he left the area as well.

Mithian suppressed a giggle. She could definitely tell that Amor had targeted her maid and the knight in question. It seems the connections between our kingdoms grow firmer with each breath and day!

Duty, it seemed, was indeed its own reward…..


	9. Morgana's Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana discovers Agravaine's failure and responds....

Chapter 9 [Late Afternoon]

After the morning’s events, the day meandered by with an increasingly pleasant mood. Sol almost seemed to dance with each cloud against their blue backdrop. The birds sang pleasantly. The flowers seemed to perk a bit more showing a little more of their blossoms. Even a few of the shyest deer came out from hiding to graze or drink from a brook.

Security and Peace seemed to be in vogue.

Well almost everywhere……

 

****

 

[Morgana’s Cabin]

Morgana tapped her finger impatiently on the table in front of herself. She awaited Agravaine’s update on Merlin’s situation. Her plans depended at least in part on Camelot being distracted with a potential war with Nemeth. She’d banked on a crisis over Merlin’s trial causing splits in the loyalties among the courtiers, nobles and Arthur’s precious knights. She desired to hear about Merlin’s fate and particularly how he’d swing at the end of a noose.

Dread burned at her however. Her mind still burned from some magical backlash earlier that morning. Instinct told her that something had gone wrong with the plan. No news had come from Camelot. She felt something had gone awry. _Agravaine knows not to fail me!_ She sucked in a pained breath to collect her resolve. She clenched her fists. Bile bit at her stomach. She recalled how her pleas for help had met with Denial’s sting and Rejection’s burning. She seethed over being denied the throne.

Well she’d see to paying Merlin back and getting the throne for herself. She’d make sure of those things.

After several more minutes, she decided to check on the greater developments for herself. She set a wooden bowl in the table’s center. Into it, she poured blessed water from the lake of Avalon. She pinched a few kinds of colored powders into it. She added a few dribbles of pine resin. Then she stirred the mixture. When she was satisfied that the ingredients had combined, she chanted over it. She passed her hand deliberately over the bowl. She exclaimed, _“Fainear Chamelot!”_ Her eyes glowed bright yellow.

The water frothed and boiled. Steam scented with herbs and aromas filled her nostrils. Within the moving waters, events seemed to come into focus. Images played before her eyes. The scrying spell came into play. She hoped to watch Misery and Consternation driving events. She’d desired to watch her not so dear brother put down his loyal lapdog.

Instead Celebration’s pangs slapped her back to the Reality’s focus. Her eyes went wide as they observed the events unfolding in front of them….

Arthur planning a patrol of some sort with most of the knights….

Gawain giving Nemeth’s knights and the ever obnoxious red headed healer his version of a Camelot tour….

Gaius worked by himself on some cure or other without a care….

Mithian sat by herself in Camelot’s royal garden. Contemplation seemed to calm her. Her eyes sparkled. Her mother’s necklace reflected Sol’s light from where it hung around her neck. A sigh seemed to escape her lips….

Merlin setting up her former bedchamber with his usual aplomb. He tucked in a comforter and plumped two goose down pillows for some guest. Satisfaction’s warmth spread a smile across his face…..

Agravaine stewing in his chamber. He glared out the window in her direction…..

Sir Samuel likewise rotting in the very cell Merlin had occupied on the previous night….

“No! No! NO!! CURSE YOU, ARTHUR!” Morgana spat. She frowned darkly at the bowl. “How does he do it? HOW?” She backhanded the bowl; Anger’s tempest spilling its contents across the floor. She curled her lip not really caring about the subsequent drying mess on the dirt under her feet. She had other matters to attend to. _Have your victory, Arthur. You’ve won one round no more, no less! I have other means at my disposal!_ She grabbed for a cloak and stepped out of the hovel. Climbing upon a grey pony, she spurred it off to the southwest and her next designs.

Designs destined to shake the bedrock of Camelot itself on many levels…..


	10. Facets on a Collision Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each of the characters confronts the situation in their own respective ways. Some puzzle through a question. Mithian puts a truth to Merlin. Morgana meets with a new ally. And two more visitors ride for Nemeth.....

Conclusion [Two Days Later]  
[Physicians’ Chamber]

After his enforced time away in the dungeon, Merlin hustled to catch up with his chores. He’d swept out the bedchambers and halls. He’d suffered through the silver polishing under George’s direction. He’d washed every stitch of laundry and hung it out to dry. He’d lugged the knights’ equipment during their workouts with the Nemethians in the palace yard. He’d even managed to serve Arthur and Mithian their dinners on time.

All in a day’s work for a certain Warlock….

 

****

 

On that morning, Merlin leaned back in the chair trying to get his bearings for a heartbeat. His limbs ached. He stifled a yawn. His fingers and wrists ached from twisting the pestle into Gaius’ bowl to make a medicinal paste. He sighed lamenting the fact that all of the catching up had prevented him from being around Mithian more.

_Princess Mithian…._

Merlin shook his head. _Cut it out! That time in the dungeon must be rotting your brain! She’s a Princess!_ Still his heart had skipped a beat at every sight of the brunette visitor. His feet stumbled more than once eliciting an eye roll from those around him. Distraction numbed his brain when her eye met his. He frowned. _It can never be!_

_There are things which may seem impossible that do come to pass. They will happen if they are meant to be, Merlin, Malodius_ noted telepathically.

Merlin looked about the chamber. While he’d grown accustomed to Kilgarrah’s voice in his head, the new element still seemed unnerving to him. _Malodius?_

_Yes. Calm yourself, Balinor’s Son. I will keep your secret,_ the lion assured him.

_Thank you. I don’t wish another incident. Princess Mithian has enough to deal with right now. Maybe she can find a worthy match for herself here,_ Merlin expressed.

_Worthiness isn’t defined solely by rank, Young One. It is in the heart and soul. It comes through valor. All of those elements run in your blood, Merlin. Your father had them. I see them in you as well. Besides would the Princess have offered you friendship if she didn’t see you as worthy? I think not. She thinks for herself, Malodius_ supposed.

_I wish I’d known my father longer. Maybe you can tell me about him at some point? I wish you all weren’t leaving. There are so many questions I have,_ Merlin lamented.

_We will have other opportunities. Besides we can speak in this fashion as we wish. For now, farewell, Merlin, Malodius_ concluded.

Merlin grimaced. _Great! Now he knows. I have this hopeless fixation! She can’t afford to take more time with me. I should be grateful she happened to be coming back to be a diplomat and…._

An expectant knock came from the door.

_Now who?_ He looked forlornly at the still half-finished goop sitting in the bowl. He flexed his hands trying to coax some spirit back into them. “Probably some patient for Gaius.” He got up and opened the door. He stared in surprise.

Mithian smiled. “Good morning, Merlin.” Her eyes sparkled at him. She smiled gently without a bit of aristocratic arrogance. “Might I come in?”

“Yes…yes of course!” He opened the door further to allow her access. As he did so, he attempted to bow as well. In the process, he tripped and landed in a heap on the floor. He frowned. “Sorry…I….”

“Merlin, it’s quite all right,” she assured him. “Hold on.” Without asking for his hand or waiting for him to get up, she pulled him back to his feet. Admittedly she felt warm as she did so. Bashfulness turned her cheeks scarlet. Uncharacteristically she backed away from him as well.

“Great,” he misinterpreted. “Princess Mithian, I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“Merlin, it’s not you. I….” She bit her lip. She’d spent most of the previous night deliberating over what to say to him at that point. Her head argued to go along with Rodor’s wishes. Her heart wanted to drag him back off to Nemeth. “I’m adjusting to being here too. It isn’t easy to be around King Arthur after what happened.”

“Then if I can ask, why did you accept the post? Surely King Rodor could have found someone else?” he asked not understanding her thinking.

She sniffed. “Because, despite what happened, Merlin, I need to be here. My father knows this. So do I. And no, you didn’t offend me. King Arthur offends me by calling you an idiot and treating you as he does.” She bowed her head not wanting to go any further with that train of thought. “It offends me that you’re a servant when you’re better than this!”

“Princess, this is my place,” he reminded her. His heart sank with the words. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms. Still Restraint held him back.

“It doesn’t have to be.” She met his eyes with her own. “I admire your loyalty to King Arthur and Camelot. As your friend, I would never come between you and them. Still, have you thought about requesting your freedom?”

“Requesting my…?” Merlin coughed. Incredulity stiffened him and threatened to stop his heart. “You’re serious?”

“Merlin, you’re a skilled physician. You could be just as skilled a diplomat as I am. Besides there are the Capability Laws.” Seeing Doubt blossoming in his eyes, she sternly pressed on, “Sir Geoffrey helped me to research them.”

“I’ll never get to that status, Princess. It must be like a hundred such quests,” he discounted.

“Actually it’s three to be raised to noble status both here and in Nemeth, Merlin. You’ve already accomplished two by King Rodor’s count. And here in Camelot, you’ve had two more at least by my count. Think on how you saved King Arthur to get your post. That was the first such act. You prevented a war by bringing my necklace to me. That’s the second. I’m sure that there could be a third hidden somewhere in your deeds over the past decade.” 

He frowned. “Arthur needs me, Princess. I can’t….” Desire raged through him like a wildfire before Duty fell back over him like a wet blanket.

“Nobody’s saying he doesn’t need you, Merlin. He trusts you more than anyone. You’ve earned that trust.” She put her hands up defensively. “I won’t go any farther than that. Just promise me you’ll think on that point. There are many ways for you to serve your King. And, on the matter of our friendship, Merlin, my father approves of that. He sends you his regards.”

“He…does?” He hesitated wondering what Rodor had heard about him from her and the other members of the previous delegation.

“Aye. He does. After all, you did save my life. Don’t worry, Merlin. I’m not trying to push anything. I’m just looking out for your best interests.” Her eyes sparkled into his. “You are worthy. Remember that.” She smiled once more. “Farewell for now. Until our next meeting.”

“Until our next meeting, Princess.” Despite her sentiments, Decorum prompted him to bow again. Ardor and Amor added to Respect’s drive in that regard. “And thank you for helping to clear my name.”

“My pleasure. Thank you for being such a great friend.” Her eyes twinkled at him. Then she slipped out the door and was gone.

He sighed. His heart sagged. He frowned. His feelings sank. _I wish she could just stay. Maybe I could wait on her too!_ He considered her words anew. _Could I really be worthy? Uther freed Gaius after his service. Maybe Arthur will do the same for me some day? I can hope._ For almost a turn of the hourglass, he contemplated such a destiny.

Then another urgent knocking at the door jarred him back to Reality’s grasp. He looked up to find Gawain rushing into the room. “Gawain?”

“Hey, Merlin! Arthur wants you _now!_ ” He yanked the servant to his feet. “It’s about Agravaine. Come on!”

“Agravaine? What?” Merlin sprang to his feet. “What happened now? He’s locked in his chambers, I thought!”

“Yeah. Well you have to see for yourself,” Gawain insisted. He guided the Warlock into the passage and toward the stairs beyond.

_Now what?_ Merlin wondered to himself. His mind swam with all sorts of thoughts and scenarios as they headed toward their destination.

 

****

 

[Agravaine’s Chambers]

Arthur stood against the chamber’s far wall. Grief clouded his brain. Despite not having had his uncle at court for very long, Anger and Sadness filled his heart. His eyes sought out those of the others with him in the room. “Anything, Gaius?” he snapped.

Gaius kneeled beside Agravaine’s cold corpse. He shook his head. “I can’t tell for sure, Sire. I’ll need to examine him more thoroughly. Judging from how he collapsed, I’d say he died quite suddenly and without warning. With Merlin’s help, I’ll be able to tell you.”

“What could have killed him here?” Leon looked around the room at the others therein. 

“Elyan and I were right outside the door. We didn’t hear anything,” Percival informed them.

Arthur shook his head in wonder. “How does something attack him up here? One doesn’t just show up!”

At that moment, Merlin rushed into the room. “What happened?”

“Merlin, what kept you? Gaius needed your help up here,” Arthur demanded. Impatience flared in his eyes almost tugging the Warlock to his aged mentor’s side.

“Sorry. I came as soon as Gawain told me.” Merlin stared at Agravaine. “What happened? Gaius?”

“We’re going to have to examine him downstairs. Other than the cause of death being sudden, I cannot say right now,” Gaius assessed. He slowly stood; Age creaking at his joints. 

Merlin nodded. He looked about the chamber. He saw everyone turn their attention toward Gaius and the deceased Chancellor, he whispered, _“Reveal aobhar.”_

The spell swept throughout the area. As it settled upon the window sill, the desk and by the bed itself, florescent magenta spots revealed themselves to the Warlock. 

“Wait!” Merlin rushed over toward the bed.

“What?” Arthur rolled his eyes. Impatience flared its fury at the servant. “Merlin! We’ve already looked there! Help Gaius get my uncle downstairs already!”

Merlin ignored Arthur. He examined the window sill. Then, as he looked by the bed, he spied the scrap of parchment. “Think I’ve found something.”

“Merlin, we would’ve found it. You….” Arthur started. 

Merlin went to touch the parchment. Still, for some reason, Caution advised him to be wary. Keeping his back turned, his eyes glowed again allowing himself a measure of magical protection. Only then did use a sheet to pick up the parchment. He arched an almost ‘oh really?’ type eyebrow at his liege. He sniffed it. “It’s poisoned. I can smell it.”

Gaius came over to Merlin’s side. He sniffed the parchment. His nostrils almost closed from the poison’s strong stench. “It’s hemlock, Sire. These edges are sharp. They’d cut the skin. The poison would enter the bloodstream. Death happened within minutes, I fear. And there’s writing on it.”

“Who’d do that? Can you read it?” Arthur pressed.

Merlin opened the parchment using the sheet and the spell to protect himself. He read: _“’Agravaine, you’ve failed me for the last time.’_ It’s Morgana’s handwriting.” He looked toward his King expectantly.

Arthur sulked. Once more Morgana had crossed the line. Lament darkened his mood. “So she still plots? Of course she does.” He ground his teeth. “Our uncle was as much of a traitor as Sir Samuel was to Princess Mithian and Nemeth then.” 

“I’m sure Morgana manipulated him,” Merlin lied knowing that Agravaine was fully aware of her agenda and its implications. Still, for Arthur’s sake, he let his liege believe that.

“I’m sure.” Appreciation coerced a nod from Arthur. “Let me know what you find. In the meantime, Gawain, perhaps you can help Merlin get the body downstairs?”

“On it,” Gawain agreed. He crossed the chamber. Taking the deceased man’s shoulders, he hefted his burden upward as Merlin took the feet. Even he knew better though than to throw out a wisecrack at that point. He led them out of the chamber and into the passage beyond.

_When will Morgana stop?_ Arthur narrowed his eyes. _Can’t she understand that we do care? Father didn’t mean to hurt any of us! The magic consumes her!_ Once more, Hate and Prejudice closed his mind to magic and all those who practiced it. In his fury and mourning, he stalked from that place leaving the knights and Gaius to finish securing it.

The plotting and the damage, it seemed, never stopped…..

 

****

 

[Southron Lands—Sunset]

Day’s last gasps barely registered as Morgana finally pulled up on her horse’s reins. She’d ridden her stallion hard to get to her destination. The forest obscured the journey’s first stage from Camelot’s nearby watching eyes. After a crossing at the Severn’s shallows where Merlin had done some days earlier, she’d pressed southwest leaving the forest behind and crossing great grassy fields toward her ally’s stronghold.

Now she noted the last streaks of deepening purples and magentas across the sky. She saw Luna high overhead against Nocturne’s dark backdrop and flanked by the twinkling stars all around. The fireflies dipped and floated like sparks in the deepening dusk. A mosquito buzzed about her ear.

Her eyes glowed trapping the pest in a glowing magical trap.

She smirked savoring the moment. She imagined the buzzing insect to be Arthur for a minute. She knew it lived by syphoning off other’s blood. In doing so, it infested those victims with disease and irritation…

…much as Arthur did in squatting on the throne and continuing Uther’s persecution of magic, the Old Religion and those who practiced them….

A wicked grin sprouted from the earlier smirk. Her hand snatched the mosquito and crushed it without mercy. 

“And so shall it be for you as well, Arthur. You and your lap dog.” She spat on the dead bug’s remains. Then she stalked toward several burning torches flickering in the twilit environs. Despite seeing two hulking guards flanking the entrance, she did not quail in fear or relent to Hesitation. Instead she simply told them, “Your leader is expecting me.”

They exchanged curious looks. Normally they’d have eliminated such an interloper on the spot. Still they knew well of her capabilities. They stepped aside and allowed her entrance into the cave.

She sniffed with Disdain. Her footfalls picked up anew. Memoria guided her through the cavern’s twists and turns. She finally turned left to find herself in a surprisingly well-decorated area within the granite labyrinth. Treasures of all kinds lay heaped along the walls. Weapons were piled by the southern edge. Of interest to her though, a tall and muscular dark skinned man more than likely of African origin stood at the table in the area’s center. “Helios?”

Helios turned from the siege plans laid out across the table. Surprise cast a disoriented pallor across his face. His eyes narrowed. “Morgana? I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Situations change. Agravaine’s dead. My brother has stumbled across the scent of our plot. How go your preparations?” she replied evenly. She restrained herself allowing him a little of Insolence’s meter at that point. 

“I have found a few points in the wall. My spies report only a few knights watch the cistern. It will be a fairly easy target,” he assessed. “And the political split between Camelot and Nemeth? Is it done?”

She frowned. “Thanks to my brother’s pet, no.” She grimaced as if biting into a rotten piece of fruit. “They’ve exposed the traitors in both courts and formalized their little peace treaty. As if that really matters?”

“We needed Camelot distracted, Morgana!” he reminded her tersely.

“It would’ve helped things. Still it won’t matter in the long run. Even if Mithian manages to get over her impulsiveness and bad feelings toward Arthur, Nemeth’s old king and the prats on his council won’t be so quick to do so. Arthur mourns Agravaine. He won’t be watching his flank. How goes your recruiting?” she rebutted.

“We have an army thousands strong.” He set his jaw. “We can march in two days’ time.”

Satisfaction’s gleam reflected in her eyes. Determination set her mood. She agreed, “Two days’ time then. Meet me at the Severn crossing point off of the main road.”

He shrugged. “It will be of little consequence, Morgana. We will be like a tidal wave sweeping all away before us.”

“I want the element of surprise, Helios, for as long as possible.” She looked pointedly at him. “Two days, Helios. Until then.” She turned and marched back the way she’d come.

_Two days then._ He returned to the plans. On them, several X’s highlighted strategic weaknesses in Camelot’s weaknesses. _And then we’ll be ready to strike!_

 

****

 

[Village of Riversmore, Nemeth; not far from the shared northern borders with Camelot, Gedref and Cawdor]  
[A/N: Blancheflor is from Chretien de Troyes _Perceval_ ] 

A long day and a half’s ride from Whitgate and little more than a day from Camelot, a hidden valley within the Cwynneth Peaks obscured an enterprising village. Large fields of wheat and other grains grew in the mountains’ shadow. A few huts lay scattered at the peaks’ base. Where the growing fields met, a cluster of oaken, mud and thatched buildings sprouted up. Trade occurred in the square. Crafts and work went on in those structures. Those who’d grown up and lived there for generations knew one another. Occasionally a newcomer with a strong work ethic could earn his or her place and fit in amongst the populace.

In one case, it provided just the necessary starting point…..

 

****

 

Gwen raked some hay in one farmer’s field into a pile. She glanced up into Nocturne’s twinkling sky wishing she’d have more opportunity to help her neighbors further. She felt so grateful over the previous week since she’d stumbled into Riversmore. Although more of an accident than anything else, the village had granted safe haven and shelter from the arduous road. In return, she’d eschewed most sleep and eaten just enough to stifle Hunger’s growl in her stomach.

Her new neighbors approved of her work ethic. Already some of them invited her to their homes. They offered a share in what little food they possessed.

She sighed. _Maybe another hour? They’ll be ready to stack tomorrow. I want this to be done._

“That’s enough for tonight, Gwen. I won’t let you work yourself sick on our account,” a voice ringing with Warmth’s and Authority’s twin tones bade.

Gwen set her rake down. Only then did she feel Weariness’ burden weighing down on her arms, legs and back. She exhaled and turned to face a tall and rather staunch blonde woman. She knew that the latter rewarded hard work and brooked no laziness from anyone….a fact that she’d recalled from their initial meeting years before in Camelot. “I want to pull my weight, my lady.”

The blonde arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps you are trying to fit in as one of the _villeins_ , Gwen. Remember I know who you are. How do you think certain parties in Camelot would feel if I let you work yourself to death?”

“Arthur thinks me a traitor, Blancheflor. Morgana raised Lancelot’s spirit to seduce me into a trap.” Gwen bowed her head; Shame and Contrition burning in her heart. “If not for Merlin, I would never have survived to be here.” 

“Arthur Pendragon can get over his wounded pride,” Blancheflor scoffed. “You repent for your indiscretion. You clearly love him, Gwen. I know this from what I see. And the eyes of he I trust most have seen as well.” She smiled wistfully in the direction of Camelot’s border several leagues to the south. 

“Who?” Gwen struggled to comprehend her meaning.

“Sir Percival. He and I have cared for each other since childhood. He went off with Sir Lancelot to aid you all. I bade him to stay until Duty’s obligation lay fulfilled. I would see that task done so he might return. If I watch over you, it will be akin to helping him,” Blancheflor clarified. Her heart floated on Amor’s gentle warmth. Her smile spread ever wider. She handed Gwen a water skin. “For your work.”

“Thank you.” Gwen drank deeply of the refreshing waters. She felt their passage irrigating her parched throat and renewing her strength. Still what had happened in the previous fortnight or so hung heavily in her mind. She’d hated to run from Camelot and her beloved knowing full well what targeted them. She dreaded Agravaine’s brewing treason and the looming army spearheaded by Helios and Morgana. Now, in addition to Arthur, she knew her friends to be in danger. To Blancheflor, that meant that Percival would be in the crosshairs. She couldn’t hold it in. “Blancheflor, there is something you must know.”

Blancheflor read her old friend’s face. She could clearly see Dread and Fear there. She knew that Gwen wouldn’t easily betray such feelings. “Whatever it is, Gwen, it can wait until you eat and rest.”

“No. It can’t.” Gwen shook her head. “Morgana plots against Camelot. Arthur’s uncle, the Lord Agravaine, is a traitor. She and the Southron leader, Helios, are building an army to invade Camelot. I tried to warn Arthur but…but…” Her eyes welled with Jealousy’s tears. “But he was with some brunette noble woman. I don’t know.” She placed her hand on her upper chest directly under her neck. “I had Arthur’s ring on a string. It must have fallen off. I tried to find it. I couldn’t….” She slumped onto the cold ground and wept.

Blancheflor stared at her. On the one hand, she wanted to press Gwen for more information. Her heart screamed for details for Percival’s sake. On the other, she recognized Gwen’s pain knowing full well that she still needed to heal from her ordeal. She embraced her friend allowing the latter a degree of Compassion’s safe harbor within her arms. “It is a token. It can be replaced. Your love still rings true, Gwen. An army you say? How many strong?”

“I…I don’t know. Helios was planning something. They had Camelot’s plans! Somehow Agravaine got them to Morgana. She gave them to the Southrons. They’ll know how to penetrate their defenses. Everyone we love will be in danger. I want to find help. I don’t know where to turn,” Gwen admitted. “I can’t go to Camelot. Arthur exiled me. If I show my face, he’ll execute me on sight. Maybe Cawdor? It’s closest,” Gwen explained.

Blancheflor shook her head. “Nay. Meleagant would love such a pretext to invade. He’d use this crisis to press his own agenda on us all. While Camelot is the next closest place, Whitgate would be most prudent. I believe King Rodor and Princess Mithian will hear your story and grant aid to Camelot. I will add my own entreaties to yours. I would not see Percival endangered because of a treasonous snake within that citadel. Please rest. I insist. We shall ride at first light.”

“I can’t pull you away from here! The haying will start at dawn. They….” Gwen protested. 

“Gwen, my reeve, William, can oversee the haying. You’ve done more than any passerby would care to do. You’ve earned our thanks. I appreciate your insight. Now come. We rest for a while. Then, for our loves, we ride with the light.” With that, Blancheflor began to walk toward the square’s other end.

Gwen turned toward the southeast. Although too many leagues separated her from her home and beloved King, Purpose linked her to Camelot. She would not desert her loved ones despite all that had happened. Perhaps Whitgate would provide answers and support for Arthur in the coming time of need. _I will bring help, Arthur. Our neighbors will not forget. I will not let them. I suspect neither will Blancheflor. I love you even if we can’t be together!_

“Gwen! Please!” Blancheflor called again.

With that, Gwen heeded her friend’s caring invitation. She followed slowly toward the other’s lodgings and a few hours’ sleep before the morn.

For even as Purpose directed her to Whitgate for Arthur’s sake, so too would her presence prove enlightening for Mithian’s and _Malodius_ ’ sakes. Connections would be further established. The tapestry would be woven with greater intricacy still.

And with that, a common bond to withstand the storms bearing down upon their shared shore….

 

THE END (for now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Look for the next installment in the series, "Mutual Understanding" beginning soon!


End file.
